


Out stealing goats

by joseyposey



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Goat theft, M/M, don't steal goats, honestly this is so gross and sappy, how does one tag, i don't condone goat theft btw, not to mention ridiculous, take me away, that's a tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-23
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-09-26 12:21:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9896219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joseyposey/pseuds/joseyposey
Summary: Although Akaashi is used to Bokuto’s antics, he has no idea what could be so urgent that the ace feels the need to show up at his window in the middle of the night.“You need my help? With what?”“I’m going to steal a goat.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> i saw [this post](http://central-and-remote.tumblr.com/post/155490180733/ao3tagoftheday-the-ao3-tag-of-the-day-is-date) on tumblr and for some reason this scenario popped into my mind. title inspired by Per Petterson's Out stealing horses. hope you enjoy ! 
> 
> (also, in this AU all the characters in HQ are neighbours, apparently.)

Akaashi is lying on his bed. It is night. He has left the window open, optimistically, inviting in any stray breeze that may find its way to him. Thankfully it is cooler now that the sun has finally gone down; the idea of coldness had seemed far removed from reality during the scorching summer day. Yet, even now, in the middle of the night, the heat from the day is lingering in the air, allied with a clinging humidity.

It might rain, Akaashi thinks, staring up into the ceiling where a few glow in the dark stars remain from, say, ten years ago, at least. As his eyes trace the shape of what used to be a wonky constellation reminiscent of the plough, he wonders if there might be a thunderstorm.

A heavy sigh escapes him and he doesn’t feel any lighter for it.

The day has been too hot and their practice more gruelling because of it. It doesn’t help that there is a practice match with Nekoma approaching, making them all agitated. They have been riling each other up for over a week now, both knowingly and subconsciously, and the excitement is starting to take its toll on the players. Their ace and captain, unsurprisingly, has been the one with the least chill of them all. Bokuto Koutaro has made Akaashi practice tossing and spiking with him incessantly, leaving Akaashi to wonder, as he often does, where the older boy gets all that energy from, not to mention the stamina. But the ace never stops: he is all brilliant smiles and encouragement. Attentive – more so than usual, perhaps.

Despite the painful practice, Bokuto seems cheerful. He’s acting like a proper captain, responsible, looking after his teammates and keeping the morale high. And yet, Akaashi is not content. He dreads the inevitable change in the captain’s mood. Because it will happen, and Akaashi will be the one to deal with it.

The other teammates will be affected too, of course, but Akaashi is, ultimately, the only one who is able to cheer Bokuto up. And it isn’t always that easy.

Akaashi can’t sleep. It’s too hot; his sheets are bunched up at the end of his bed after he kicked them off a while ago. He is sweating, and he can’t seem to find a comfortable position.

He thinks of Koutaro.

He was smiling so brilliantly today. Brilliant when he spiked Akaashi’s tosses again and again, without tiring. Seemingly so confident. So happy. And he probably was, in those moments, Akaashi knows how much Bokuto loves volleyball. But after practice Akaashi saw him shine a little less. His smile was wavering, his voice was quieter; no longer the explosion of energy and light like before.

Akaashi worries.

What are the words? The words Akaashi can use to help him? If he found them and put them in the right order, like a spell, would they cure Bokuto? Do words have that kind of power? He fears that they don’t.

The sigh is heavier this time; still the weight on his chest is unrelenting.

What actions can he take? What, specifically, can he do to help Bokuto? A gesture? A touch? Would it communicate what he wants to say? Would Bokuto understand? He can be so stupid sometimes, so stupid it makes Akaashi’s head hurt – like now.

Arguably, Akaashi’s the stupid one now, lying here, thinking himself around in circles, thinking about a stupid boy until he can’t sleep. One stupid boy thinking of another. How ridiculous.

He closes his eyes, annoyed, foolishly thinking he can force himself to sleep. If it worked like that he wouldn’t have had so may sleepless nights.

(Alternatively, if Bokuto wasn’t such a bother Akaashi wouldn’t have had so many sleepless nights.)

He wills Bokuto to leave his mind, if only for a short while, so that he can fall asleep at least, but it doesn’t work. In fact, it seems to have the exact opposite effect, because suddenly a very familiar voice comes in through the window.

_“Akaashi! Hey, Akaashi!”_

It’s mix of a hiss and a whisper, a very loud whisper, mind, and there is no doubt who it belongs to.

Akaashi sits bolt upright, turning to the window. And sure thing – he’s not imagining it – there, right outside, as if Akaashi’s mind has accidentally summoned him, is Bokuto Koutaro in the flesh, grinning wildly.

Akaashi blinks.

After some time, staring at the boy outside his window, Akaashi realises that he is, in fact, not particularly surprised. Sure, he had been startled, but looking at him just then, it doesn’t seem to be anything odd about Bokuto Koutaro pressing his nose against his bedroom window at two in the morning. It is decidedly not the weirdest thing the boy has ever done.

“Bokuto.”

Bokuto’s smile is widening, impossibly.

“Akaashi! You’re awake.”

“I am now.”

Bokuto’s face falls, and he lowers his voice, as if it’s going to mend anything.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

Akaashi shakes his head, a hand coming up to rub his face.

“Not really. I couldn’t sleep. Why are you here?”

Bokuto looks excited again, like a puppy, Akaashi can’t help but notice the resemblance.

“I need your help!”

Bokuto’s eyes are brilliant, warm; his smile too. His hair is still spiky from product, which means he has been awake all this time. Akaashi likes it when his hair is down, though, treasures the few times he gets to see it, like when Bokuto gets out of the shower after practice.

Although Akaashi is used to Bokuto’s antics, he has no idea what could be so urgent that the ace feels the need to show up at his window in the middle of the night.

“You need my help? With what?”

“I’m going to steal a goat.”

Akaashi is sitting on the edge of his bed now, and is starting to wonder if he is a little sleepy after all; a sneaking suspicion says that he really did fall asleep earlier, and that he is now having a very bizarre dream. Granted, Akaashi has dreamt of Bokuto before, but not like this. And there were definitely no goats involved – thank god for that.

“You’re going to steal a goat.”

“Yes! And I need your help.”

It doesn’t seem like Bokuto feels that any further explanation is needed; he is looking expectantly at Akaashi, like a child waiting for their parent to give them permission to go to the playground, or something like that.

Akaashi wishes that it wasn’t so effective… and endearing.

Thinking about it, the chances of him falling asleep were already abysmal, and now after this new development, they have been made even more so.

“Just… give me a second.”

He hears Bokuto give a relatively quiet ‘yes!’ while he turns on the bedside lamp, getting up to find the clothes that he discarded on the floor a few hours earlier, before he had stumbled to bed with the false hope of rest.

As Akaashi stretches his long body, he is aware of his own semi-nakedness, how his body is awash in the soft, intimate light; and he takes his time looking for his clothes. Shivering, he listens to the quiet night outside the window, suddenly so very quiet.

Once Akaashi is dressed, he opens the window fully and climbs onto the sill. Bokuto is there on the grass watching him, eyes very intent when he offers a hand to help Akaashi down. It’s only a metre or so to the ground, Akaashi’s room being on the first floor, and he could easily drop himself down without injury, but he lets Bokuto help him. The ace even goes as far as steadying him by the waist, practically lifting him from the window – which wouldn’t be a problem for Bokuto; Akaashi knows how strong he is.

Bokuto’s touch lingers, longer than it needs to, while Akaashi is planted safely on the ground. He looks up at the slightly taller boy.

“So,” he says, “we’re stealing a goat?”

Bokuto’s eyes focus on him.

“Right! The goat!” he is grinning again. “I knew I could count on you, Akaashi.”

Akaashi allows the flattery to affect him, if only a little. Bokuto takes his hand and leads him through the summer night. They move down the driveway, before cutting across the field, going in the direction of Bokuto’s house.

The grass is long, whispering softly against Akaashi’s bare legs. It feels nice, soothing; its touch cool compared to the air that surrounds them and the heat of Bokuto’s hand. The whispering grass, the cicadas, the sound of their breathing, is what the summer night is made up of.

It is dark, but it is a summer darkness that carries some light from the day, and its heat too. The day lingers, unwilling to give way to the night.

Akaashi feels the humidity on his skin. Looking up, he tries to see if there are clouds gathering.

Bokuto’s hand is clammy in his own. If it had been anyone else, Akaashi would have been grossed out, but not with Bokuto. Sweat, tears – even blood – they have shared those many times before. With Bokuto Akaashi never wants to be stingy.

“Could you explain exactly what it is we are about to do?” the setter asks softly, a little reluctant to disturb the simple harmony of the moment.

Bokuto shoots him a look of confusion, as if he is expecting Akaashi to already know. Then it occurs to him that Akaashi probably can’t read minds, or who knows really. Akaashi has always been so attuned to him, Bokuto just got used to the other boy instinctively knowing what he’s thinking and feeling at any odd time.

“Oh, right! Well, Kuroo, the bastard, pranked me.” From the way Bokuto is pouting, it is safe to say that his pride is a little hurt. “I need to get back at him and it has to be better – much better! How can we hope to beat Nekoma if I can’t even out-prank their captain?!”

Akaashi listens, waiting patiently for Bokuto to continue.

“So that was when I thought I’d steal The Admiral, just for a day or so, and then put him back, of course. No one will understand a thing! It will be the best prank ever!”

That is when Akaashi stops, forcing Bokuto to a halt. “Wait. The Admiral?”

“Yeah!”

“That’s impossible,” Akaashi says.

“No, it’s not!”

“It is.”

“Is not!” Bokuto maintains, clearly not discouraged by Akaashi’s manner. He grins and tugs gently on Akaashi’s hand to get him to move again. “Not when I have Akaashi with me.”

They continue, Akaashi a little more sceptical than before, yet still letting Bokuto lead them on. Idly, he wonders how many insane adventures Bokuto has dragged him into, and why he continues to let him do it.

Ah hell, he knows very well.

They reach Kuroo’s house, which is dark but for the porch light. It is a big house, surrounded by fields on all sides. They sneak around the back, where there is a small pen where the family keep their livestock, livestock, which consists of three goats – one of them the infamous Admiral himself.

The other two goats are fast asleep, but The Admiral is awake, standing in the middle of the pen glaring at them, as if he has been expecting the pair all this time. It is only when they are standing face to face with The Admiral that Akaashi can detect a grain of uncertainty in Bokuto’s demeanour.

The ram is well known for a reason. The Kuroo household got him when he was a few months old, and by then he was already freakishly huge for his age. And as time went by, the goat refused to stop growing. Not only did his monstrous size unnerve people, but the goat also showed himself to be exceptionally stubborn and mean spirited. Add to that a pair of massive curved horns, sharper than they have any right to be, and there you have a pretty terrifying creature.

Kuroo has, on several occasions, entertained them with tales of The Admiral, so both Akaashi and Bokuto know what the goat is capable of.

To be honest, Akaashi is not sure, exactly, why the Kuroo family have the goats. He has never bothered to ask. Maybe they are like pets? But then, why would anyone want to keep The Admiral as a pet? From what he has heard, the animal doesn’t strike him as one you would want to pet or even be around too much.

His long shaggy wool makes Akaashi suspect he might be an Icelandic breed, but he’s no goat expert. The Kuroos probably don’t know either. According to Kuroo, his family got the goat practically for free. It was not until later that they realised they had been tricked into taking what turned out to be a diabolic goat off of some poor dishonest farmer’s hand.

When Bokuto had told Akaashi they were stealing a goat, Akaashi had no idea he was thinking of stealing The Admiral. If he’d known, Bokuto might have had a little more trouble getting him out of bed.

Akaashi comes up next to his captain. He can practically see the wheels turning in his head as he stares at the ominous goat. Akaashi puts a hand on his shoulder, and the older boy turns immediately to him.

“So, how do you want to go about this?”

Even as Bokuto looks at him, it seems as if his confidence is returning. He smiles and his eyes light up all of a sudden, golden, like they should be.

Bokuto is laughing; a little too loud, but of course he doesn’t realise that, so Akaashi has to clamp his hands over his mouth to make him shut up. Akaashi tries to look annoyed, but Bokuto is still grinning when he removes his hands, and his eyes are still on Akaashi. Again, Bokuto takes one of Akaashi’s hands and squeezes it in his own. It is a habit of his that Akaashi has noticed, but chosen to say nothing about.

“Thanks for coming with me, Akaashi. I feel like I can do anything when I’m with you.”

Akaashi merely nods, certain that his face is not betraying him.

Bokuto lets go of his hand and turns towards the pen, towards The Admiral, who is still watching them forebodingly from the shadows. The ace puts his hands on his hips and gives the goat a challenging look.

“Okay, Admiral, let’s do this!”

They are lucky the gate isn’t locked. Perhaps the Kuroos never felt the need to secure it, as they never expected to become victims of goat theft. The very appearance of The Admiral would, in and of itself, normally work as a security measure, since no one in their right mind would willingly choose to get up close and personal with a creature like that.

Clearly, they had not taken into account the existence of reckless, unpredictable individuals like Bokuto Koutaro and their whims, nor their ability to be unfazed when met with seemingly impossible challenges.

It is a quality Akaashi admires in his captain, a quality that has led them to victory many times. Coincidentally, it is something that, just as often, gets them into trouble as well.

Bokuto has opened the gate, Akaashi right behind him, watching the goat carefully. The ace is standing in the opening and has entered into what seems to be a staring contest with the goat. Akaashi is looking back and forth between the two, wondering whether or not Bokuto actually has a plan or if he’s just winging it.

He’s got a feeling it’s the latter.

“Admiral, you’re coming with us.”

The goat, in reply, does nothing. It keeps staring at the strange human with the spiky hair that is trying to make contact with him for some reason.

Bokuto procures a leash and a collar from his back pocket, and Akaashi is surprised at this unusual foresight. Immediately, though, he feels bad for underestimating Bokuto. He reminds himself that there is a reason why the boy is Fukurodani’s ace and captain. Bokuto Koutaro can be surprisingly and brilliantly dependable.

That does not, however, stop Akaashi from feeling anxious when Bokuto begins advancing on the goat, collar held aloft. The setter watches the goat attentively, looking out for any sudden movements. Slowly, Bokuto makes his way into the pen towards the extremely unimpressed Admiral.

Akaashi looks at the foreboding horns adorning the ram’s head. Looking at them gives him a really bad feeling, and the longer he looks the worse the feeling grows.

“Bokuto – I don’t think – “

“Hang on, Akaashi. I’m almost – whoa there!”

The Admiral gives a sudden jerk forward and Bokuto promptly jumps back. It seems to be a warning only, the Admiral giving them a chance to back off before things get ugly.

Akaashi can’t stand to watch any longer. Quickly, he enters the pen and takes the leash from Bokuto.

“Give me that.”

“Akaashi!” Bokuto reaches for the leash, shocked. “What are you doing? It isn’t safe!”

“I know! That’s why I’m helping you. You wanted my help right?”

Bokuto looks pained. “Yeah, but – “

“Then you distract him while I put the collar on him.”

While Akaashi edges along the fence of the pen in order to get behind the ram, Bokuto has started some kind of wild dance, stomping on the ground and making rude gestures at the goat, complete with verbal insults, as if the animal can understand him. It’s working, though, because the goat seems to have zero interest in whatever Akaashi is doing.

While all of this is happening, the setter is conscious of the absurdity of the situation, and he probably would have laughed hysterically if he weren’t so tense and focused on his task.

Somehow, in retrospect he is not sure how, Akaashi is able to secure the collar around the neck of the animal. Looking back on it, it should have been harder than it was, considering all that wool and the very size of the goat, not to mention his own undeniable fear. Regardless of Akaashi’s success, the moment The Admiral realises he has been tricked, he turns in a heartbeat and is ready to charge.

Akaashi, however, who had foreseen this kind of reaction, has moved swiftly out of the way and is suddenly tugged out of the pen by Bokuto. Akaashi is not expecting it, and so he stumbles and manages to bring Bokuto down with him, in a tangle of arms and legs and curses.

This is not where they want to be though, not with a feral goat only paces away. Akaashi is not prepared to be trampled by a furious goat, and so is immediately ready to get up and haul both Bokuto’s and his own ass out of there, but as he gathers his wits from the fall he sees that The Admiral is not attacking.

“Akaashi, are you all right?”

It comes from beneath him, because he is sort of lying on top of Bokuto. He feels Bokuto’s arms around his body, warm and strong, and he sits up suddenly. So does Bokuto, his chest against Akaashi’s back.

“He’s not attacking,” Bokuto is saying, right by his ear. He is whispering now; it makes Akaashi shudder.

“Apparently not.”

“I wonder why.”

The Admiral has resumed his former position, with an evil glare fixed on them. He looks a little agitated, throwing his head in annoyance, unhappy with the collar around his neck, but otherwise he isn’t making any moves.

Akaashi, finally, gets to his feet, extending a hand to Bokuto – who is smirking at him for some reason.

“I saved you,” he says as he stands up.

Akaashi looks away. “I wasn’t in any actual danger, Bokuto. And the goat could have trampled us if it wanted to.”

Bokuto is pouting. “Come on, Akaashi! Wasn’t I cool saving you from the evil goat?”

Sighing, Akaashi removes his hand from Bokuto’s hold, scolding himself for the rate of his heartbeat. This stupid bloody goat.

“Thanks for saving me, Bokuto,” he relents, and Bokuto seems satisfied with that.

Bokuto grabs the leash and thus begins the real struggle: getting The Admiral to move, which may prove to be a bigger obstacle than what the ace had initially expected it to be.

No matter how hard they pull, no matter the threats or the encouragement, the goat refuses to move from his spot. Bokuto and Akaashi debate whether they should try to push him but eventually decide against it. Although the goat hasn’t attacked them yet, they do not want to tempt fate.

Perhaps it is a miracle, or perhaps the goat is simply weary of the constant pulling, regardless; The Admiral steps forward. Bokuto’s strained expression instantly lights up in triumph.

“Ha – ha!” he exclaims, before Akaashi can stop him.

No harm seems to be done, however. The Kuroo residence still lies in darkness, and the cicada symphony continues uninterrupted by any other sound.

The goat is now miraculously moving forward, a little unwillingly but he is moving.

“Akaashi! Look!”

“Yes, Bokuto, I can see.”

The setter goes to aid the ace, and together they manage to coax the goat out of the pen.

“We should have brought something to lure him with,” Bokuto pants. “What do goats like? Carrots? It would have made this a lot easier.”

Akaashi agrees, but no matter, it’s too late to worry about that now. And even though the progress is slow, the goat is definitely coming. When they gently pull on the leash, The Admiral will walk a few steps and then stop, until they pull the leash again. And so it goes.

They move along the edge of the field at the back of Kuroo’s house, and continue on towards Bokuto’s house, which is, thankfully not too far away. They just have to cross over one more field and they’ll be there.

Akaashi doesn’t actually mind the slow pace. He is not eager to go back to his bed and futilely attempt sleep again; he knows it won’t happen. It is much nicer being here, with Bokuto, on this insane quest, talking in low summer voices, and listening to Bokuto trying to coax the goat with endearments that frankly do not suit the grim creature at all.

“Why do you think they named him The Admiral?” Bokuto wonders.

Akaashi shrugs. “Maybe he used to be a naval officer before they got him.”

Bokuto looks at Akaashi for a moment as if he thinks he’s being serious, then he bursts out laughing, and Akaashi cannot help the smile that grows on his own face, not even feeling the need to silence the laughter now.

“Oh god, I just pictured that. Can you see it? The Admiral standing at the helm, like this,” Bokuto pushes out his chest and his chin, in what is supposed to be an impersonation of the supposedly noble seafaring goat.

“Stop it, Bokuto, you look ridiculous.”

Bokuto is smiling; he cannot seem to stop smiling tonight.

“Well, duh! Let’s see you do a goat-impersonation without looking ridiculous.”

“I’ll pass.”

“Akaashi! Coward!”

“Yep, that’s me. Cowardly Akaashi.”

“Ah, no! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that, Akaashi!”

“No, you’ve made it absolutely clear what you think of me.” Akaashi drops the leash. “I think Cowardly Akaashi will head home, since he is unfit to accompany Brave Bokuto on his perilous journey,” he says, pretending to be offended and making as if he’s about to leave, but Bokuto clamps his arms around the setter, preventing him from going anywhere.

“Noo, don’t go, Akaashi! I need you!” he says, before his weight and the sudden embrace bring both of them down again for the second time that night.

Foolishly, Akaashi is worried about the ace, asking if he is okay, and brushing grass off of his clothes, but Bokuto is grinning. And it is different from before, it is scheming, Akaashi realises after it is too late and Bokuto has already launched his attack.

It is a well kept secret that Akaashi Keiji is miserably ticklish. Bokuto, of course, knows all about it, but does not dare to take advantage of this knowledge very often – for his own good health of course, and also because he likes spiking every so often when they play volleyball together.

Akaashi tries to stay serious in order to tell Bokuto off, but it is impossible. They wrestle on the ground as Bokuto attempts to tickle him to death, while shouting stuff like ‘come with me, Akaashi’ and ‘give up, Akaashi’ while poor Akaashi vows that he will never set to the ace ever again.

The heat and proximity of Bokuto’s body is heady; Akaashi’s mind can’t help but registering it. Finally, Bokuto isn’t tickling him anymore, though they are still wrestling. Acutely he feels Bokuto everywhere: the grip he has on his arms, the strong thighs hemming him in, the broad chest against his own, his smell…

Akaashi is pinned to the ground, out of breath. He is losing. A fleeting thought passes through his mind as his body relaxes beneath Bokuto’s, saying, honestly, sometimes one can be content in losing.

Then Akaashi feels moisture on his forehead, and it is not his own sweat, nor Bokuto’s. It is the first few drops of rain. Not long after, there is a deafening thunderclap that has them all – boys and goat alike – jumping in alarm. The Admiral lets out a terrified bleat, and would have been off in a second if Akaashi had not reached for the leash in time. Bokuto curses and quickly helps Akaashi restrain the animal.

Thankfully, The Admiral soon calms down, and is contented to munch on the grass by his feet while it starts drizzling; a soft summer rain. Akaashi had been expecting it.

Akaashi and Bokuto are still on the ground, lying next to each other, both suddenly feeling drained. They turn to look at each other and they burst out laughing; they laugh until Akaashi’s sides are hurting and until he has lost his breath once more.

He feels light. He feels happy. Lying here, next to Bokuto on the muddy ground in the middle of a rainy summer night, he feels happy. Looking into Bokuto’s face when his expression is wrought with laughter, smelling like goat, with mud on his cheek and grass in his hair, Akaashi feels stupidly, absurdly happy…

“Thank you, Bokuto,” he says, when they have both quieted down. “For bringing me with you. This is fun.”

Bokuto regards him, with laughter still in his eyes and around his mouth, and Akaashi wants to look at him forever.

“Of course I’d bring you, Akaashi,” Bokuto says. The ace casts his eyes down, and takes hold of Akaashi’s hand, scrutinising it. “I always want to hang with you. Wherever. Doing whatever. But… I don’t want to bother you, you know? I feel like I do that sometimes.”

“You’re not bothering me. Or, shall I say, I don’t mind when you bother me.”

“Really?”

Akaashi nods, looking at his hand in Bokuto’s. They are quiet for a while, before Akaashi has to ask, “Why do you always do that?”

Bokuto looks up, confused. “Do what?”

“Hold my hand.”

“Oh. Well, I like your hands? I can always trust them. I mean, you’re the one who makes my awesome spikes possible, so naturally I like your hands.”

“I see, so it’s about volleyball.” Akaashi feels his stomach sinking.

Bokuto has to think for a minute.

“Yes, but also no. Volleyball is not the only reason why I want to hold your hand. I just like it? I like touching you. I mean, I like you.”

“You… like me.”

“Of course! Who wouldn’t?”

Akaashi knows for a fact that there are several people who don’t like him, and that there are many things about his character that don’t necessarily endear him to others easily. He is unapproachable, not especially talkative, he can be really stubborn at times, and he knows he lacks initiative in anything other than volleyball – to the extreme annoyance of his parents.

None of that had stopped Bokuto from wriggling closer to him, though – closer than anyone had ever been before. It was as if Bokuto didn’t see any of his flaws, or better yet, he saw but didn’t care. Regardless, Bokuto had successfully brought down most of Akaashi’s walls, and now he was here. Closer still.

“How,” Akaashi swallows, heart thumping against his ribs, “how exactly do you like me?”

As he meets Akaashi’s gaze, Bokuto looks more serious, more thoughtful. Nervous. Akaashi believes he sees a dusting of pink on his cheeks, but it is hard to tell in the light, or the darkness, which is turning stranger.

“Ah, well – I don’t know? I – “

Bokuto is avoiding Akaashi's eyes, unable to finish the sentence, and Akaashi is pretty sure that he is blushing now.

Bokuto is clearly having a hard time, and so Akaashi makes a decision––propping himself up on one elbow, he leans down to press his lips to Bokuto’s.

It is short, and Akaashi is so nervous that he can’t actually enjoy it; but he does register the feel of Bokuto’s lips, soft and warm against his own.

They part, and lock eyes. Bokuto looks dazed and Akaashi feels dizzy.

“Is that how you like me?”

Bokuto blinks.

“I… don't know,” he replies. Bokuto licks his lips, looking up at him. “Maybe – maybe you should do it again?”

Akaashi feels his heart jump.

He dips down again, slowly this time, so that he gets the chance to read Bokuto's expression. Staring silently into Bokuto's eyes, he wonders what is going on inside his head just then; what does Bokuto see when he looks at Akaashi, what does he feel?

In his eyes: expectation, want – it is there.

Akaashi’s lips find Bokuto's slightly parted and ready to receive him. It is better this time; it is longer, and Bokuto's lips are moving against his own, softly, slowly.

Here Akaashi is, on a hot, rainy summer night, lying in the grass in his neighbour’s garden next to a goat he just tried to steal, kissing his best friend and teammate, Bokuto Koutaro.

It is absolutely absurd.

With the smell of rain and the dampness of the night, it is starting to feel a little heady, particularly when Akaashi feels the hot suggestion of Bokuto’s tongue against his own. Bokuto makes a sound and a spark shoots down Akaashi’s body, settling low in his stomach, and he knows it is time to pull away.

Akaashi can feel his face burning, but he can’t look away from Bokuto because he looks so beautiful just then, lying in the grass breathless, hair in disarray, lips parted slightly.

Then his lips stretch into a lazy smile saying, “Akaashi, you kissed me.”

Bokuto. What an utterly hopeless boy. Persuading his best friend into absurd situations, and making him fall for him in the process. Bokuto probably didn’t even know that he was doing it, unaware of his strange charm.

“I did,” says Akaashi, heart racing.

Bokuto is still smiling. “I’m sorry, I tricked you,” his voice soft. “I’ve known for a long time. That I like you.” He sits up, close to Akaashi, his golden eyes intense. “And you, Akaashi, what about you?”

Bokuto hovers close, eyes dipping down to Akaashi’s mouth. It is hard for Akaashi to think when Bokuto is so near, when he can feel his breath on his face. Thankfully, his answer doesn’t need much thought.

Akaashi nods. “Yes. I like Bokuto. For a long time, as well.”

It is Bokuto’s time to kiss him; one of his big hands slide into Akaashi’s hair, tilting his head just so, as their lips move together. Akaashi opens his mouth a little, and Bokuto lets his tongue enter hesitantly. Akaashi meets him halfway, feeling the heat of the slick muscle against his own, and this time he is the one making sounds. Bokuto places another hand on his waist, and Akaashi shudders at the touch.

They part all too soon in Akaashi’s opinion, but on second thought it’s fine, because he doesn’t mind the way Bokuto is looking at him. He never thought… he never thought this would ever happen.

“Bokuto, you kissed me.”

It provokes Bokuto’s signature boisterous laugh and, again, Akaashi has to clamp his hands over the other boy’s mouth and remind him to be quiet. Although Akaashi tries to be stern, his body is tingling with happiness, with incredulity, with disbelief.

Bokuto takes hold of Akaashi’s hands, presses them to his lips.

“Akaashi. Be my boyfriend?”

It is a bit of a shock, Akaashi must admit. When Bokuto showed up at his window earlier, he had not had the wildest idea of what might happen, of what to expect. Usually it is like this with Bokuto; he is unpredictable. Naturally, Akaashi had expected something odd to happen, and it certainly did, in the form of a very unusual admiral. But this? A short time ago they were friends embarking on an impossible mission, and now they are kissing and holding one another – still friends, but something has changed – and presently Bokuto is asking Akaashi to become his boyfriend. Somehow this turn of events seems even more improbable.

Bokuto leans in, and lowers his voice to a near whisper, desperate.

“Akaashi, I can’t stop thinking about you. I always want to be with you, I’m always thinking of what you’re doing, what you’re thinking, what you’re feeling – if you’re sad, or happy, or annoyed, or whatever… You’re so pretty, Akaashi, I almost can’t believe it. Sometimes it’s hard to stop staring at you.."

He stops, takes a huge breath before he continues:

"A-and you’re such an amazing setter! I love how you look when you play, so focused, so controlled, so graceful… And I know I can always depend on you in a game, and out of it – you’re always there for me when I need it.” Bokuto looks slightly embarrassed, yet determined. “I like you so much, Akaashi. My head is so filled with you I can’t even sleep at night! And then I have to make up stupid excuses to go see you, and I’m sorry I dragged you out of bed tonight to steal a goat...”

The ramble ends, and The Admiral lets out a berating bleat, as if to second Bokuto’s statement.

“That’s – Bokuto – that’s…”

Akaashi can’t finish the thought. He bites his lip, looks at Bokuto long and hard, realises the state of anxiety the other boy is in. And no wonder, he just poured out his heart and soul just then. Akaashi has to say something; he has to translate his own overwhelming feelings into words.

Akaashi can’t help it; he shudders and draws back, gently removing his hands from Bokuto’s.

“Do you… know what you’re asking?” Akaashi challenges. He looks at Bokuto, wondering if the other boy is aware of… the potential consequences of them being together; the disapproval of others, friends and family…

Bokuto is cocking his head, eying Akaashi, uncertain if he’s being asked a trick question.

“I’m pretty sure? I like you and I want to be your boyfriend – it’s as simple as that, isn’t it?”

Akaashi lets out a breath, feeling hot and frustrated. It is important that Bokuto understands.

“It’s not that simple, though, Bokuto. Not everyone will approve of – “

“A gay couple?” Bokuto is smiling, albeit a little sadly. “I know. I also don’t care about those people. I care about you, though.”

This feeling of anxiety, of a tightening around his heart, is not fair in that moment, not when the boy Akaashi is in love with is confessing to him after having kissed him until he was lightheaded and short of breath. The anxiety does not belong in this wonderful moment, yet it has shoved its cold, sharp frame in through an opening, entered abruptly, and demanded attention.

Akaashi looks away from Bokuto.

“What if your family don’t approve?” he asks quietly. “What will you do then?”

Bokuto shrugs. “I don’t think they’ll mind. And if they do… well, I’ll deal with that when I have to. Akaashi,” he pleads, drawing the setter’s eyes back to his, reaching for him again. “I don’t want to ignore these feelings anymore.” There are tears forming in his eyes. “I only want to be with you. So please, if you want to be with me, then say so. I promise that I won’t let anything harm you – or us. I promise that I’ll do everything I can for this.” His fingers entwine with Akaashi’s, locking their hands together gently, but securely.

There is not much Akaashi can say after that; he is wrapping his arms around Bokuto, feeling a warm, wet cheek against his own, and he whispers in Bokuto’s ear, that yes, he wants to, wants to be his, want them to be together, so much.

The embrace is a long one; they don’t say anything as it lasts. They feel each other, in each other’s arms, present, real. The warmth and the breath of the other, the life and the consciousness of the other – so close. They share a space, a moment, an alignment of sorts, the night protective around them. And soon the rain lets up.

When they part, Akaashi feels replenished. Full of a strange energy, he feels like he has taken it from Bokuto, and Bokuto, in turn, looks invigorated, too. Strengthened in each other, the unwelcome anxiety is expelled from between them.

They smile, and they laugh. And it feels good. It feels right.

“So we are boyfriends now?” Bokuto murmurs, watching Akaashi with warm, golden eyes.

“Yes,” Akaashi whispers.

It is another bleat from The Admiral that makes them part, and Akaashi remembers that yes, there is a goat there somewhere. He has nearly forgotten about the infernal creature, and although he resentfully untangles himself from Bokuto, he cannot deny the miserable fact that The Admiral has played a crucial role in the night’s course of events, of him being able to hold Bokuto like this at all.

Is it absurd to feel indebted to a goat? The answer is implicit, but looking at the animal, the scowl that he is met with seems to suggest that the goat knows exactly what Akaashi is thinking, and that it is not appreciating it.

“Ah,” Bokuto laughs. “We should get him back.”

Akaashi turns to Bokuto, raising an eyebrow. “You sure? What about the prank?”

Bokuto gets to his feet and puts his hands on his hips. As he eyes the ugly goat he lets out a long sigh.

“I have a feeling he’s not going to be very cooperative anymore.” He reaches out a hand to Akaashi, helping him to his feet. “Besides” he says sheepishly, “I don’t really care about the goat. Most of all I wanted to hang out with you.”

“That’s a very inventive and roundabout way of doing it,” Akaashi murmurs, unable to keep the amusement out of his voice.

“Well, I-I felt like I needed an excuse.”

Suddenly, Bokuto seems so fragile that Akaashi’s heart hurts. He takes Bokuto’s hand, very tenderly, noticing how Bokuto’s is shaking slightly, nervously.

“You don’t need an excuse in order to hang out with me,” he reassures. And Bokuto eventually meets his gaze, smiles and says, okay.

Together they manage to persuade The Admiral back into the pen, and it goes much more smoothly than when they were trying to abduct him, funnily enough. When they have closed the gate behind the sulky goat, they look at each other and start giggling hopelessly, at their failure and the absurdity of it all. But it doesn’t feel like they’ve failed, not in the least. In fact, the feeling they share is something akin to the surge of joy when they have won a match, only better – much better.

Soon they slip away into the taller grass on the field across from Akaashi’s house.

It is early morning then, and the night, which wasn’t deep to begin with, is gradually allowing the light to return. The horizon is turning a careful shade of pink, lending a strange quality to the world around them. It looks unprepared, something only half dressed, and somehow they both feel that their presence is something slightly out of place, that the scene is not meant for their eyes. Or is it rather that they are witnessing a world on the verge of being born, a privilege for the few, for the fortunate. A sense that they are truly lucky to see it.

The scene fills them with this strange unutterable feeling, an immensely beautiful sensation accompanied by a sadness and an anxiety, akin to what Akaashi sensed before, and they feel it acutely in their bones. It is something old that they are carrying, which is not theirs alone.

Still, the warmth and love Akaashi feels for Bokuto, and what Bokuto feels for him, subdue the heaviness, making it bearable, able to be borne.

Bokuto walks him home, holding his hand. They walk in silence, though they share glances every so often that are far from silent; soft smiles, one boy squeezing the hand of the other, as if to reassure himself that this is real, in the decided unreality surrounding them.

For the first time in his life Akaashi wishes the field were bigger, that the trek home was longer. All too soon they have crossed it, now standing on the grounds of Akaashi’s house.

Beneath Akaashi’s window Bokuto kisses him again. Tongue. Akaashi shivers, pressed against the wall, and debates, deliriously, whether he should drag Bokuto inside with him, wonders how Bokuto would react if he did, what would happen if he said yes, and decides then, with a mix of excitement and nerves, that he’s not ready for that. Too much has happened in such a short time, and they should slow down a little, so that they can see where they are going, so that they don’t get hurt.

“Akaashi,” Bokuto breathes his name on his lips, golden eyes bright as they hold him, like the sun that is soon to rise. Bokuto doesn’t say anything else; a hand caressing Akaashi’s cheek as he looks; Akaashi’s own hand at the nape of Bokuto’s neck, holding him close.

“Thank you for tonight, Bokuto,” he murmurs, basking in the warmth of Bokuto’s gaze. “I’m sorry we couldn’t complete the prank.”

Bokuto grins. “Don’t worry, I’ll come up with something even better.” Adding, “Maybe I was a little too ambitious about The Admiral.”

“Hmm. That’s what I like about you, Bokuto.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

Among other things, he thinks. He’ll get the chance to tell Bokuto about them later. They have lots of time, and he’ll be sure to tell him everything.

“Well,” a little flustered, “then I-I’ll keep it up I guess.”

Akaashi gives him a kiss on the cheek.

“And I’ll help you, if you need it.”

There are tears in Bokuto’s eyes.

“Akaashi… you’re so cool.”

Akaashi only smiles, and says, “You should be getting home now, Bokuto. It’s late – or early, rather. Try to get a few hours of sleep at least.”

“You too, Akaashi.”

After giving him another slow, sweet kiss, Bokuto gives him a boost up to his window. When Akaashi is deposited on the windowsill, his boyfriend – _his boyfriend_ – looks up at him with a glint in his eyes and says, “Can I see you again?”

Akaashi, grinning widely, “I’ll see you in practice in a few hours, stupid.”

Bokuto is grinning back, stupidly, beautifully.

“Good night, Akaashi.”

“Good night, Bokuto.”

Head resting against the window, he watches Bokuto move down the driveway with a spring in his step. He turns around, finds Akaashi looking, and grins. He stretches his arms and waves at the boy in the window. Akaashi waves back, positively smitten.

Long after Bokuto has disappeared, Akaashi remains seated. It is getting lighter still and soon the sun will rise. He feels drowsy, but doesn’t think he’ll be able to sleep.

Somehow it feels important to him to see the dawning of the day, to see the sun rise from behind the hills in the distance, bathing everything in its clear, unambiguous light. He nods off, but wakes when he feels tender warmth on his face. Opening his eyes, he is met with the sun peering at him from over the top of the hills, rising even as he watches; the warmth spreads, from his head to his chest, to his waist, until his entire body is enveloped in the golden light.

Feeling safe and warm and reassured, he climbs inside and into his bed. In a few hours he will see Bokuto again.


End file.
